


Arresto Momentum

by Ketch22



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Supernatural
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Dean is a Little Shit, Explicit Language, M/M, POV Castiel (Supernatural), POV Dean Winchester, Professor Castiel (Supernatural), Professor John Winchester, Sexual Content, Slow Build Castiel/Dean Winchester, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-26
Updated: 2019-06-24
Packaged: 2020-03-19 18:22:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 13,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18975796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ketch22/pseuds/Ketch22
Summary: Entering his last year at Hogwarts, Dean is surprised by two new professors. One is his dad, so that's equal parts cringe-worthy and terrifying. But the other is hot-as-sin Castiel Novak,  and Dean thinks he can teach him a thing or two about Charms.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is NOT related to Time Won't Let Me, although some of the characters and themes overlap.

**_Dean:_ **

 

“What are you staring at?” His brother Sam nudged him, and Dean uttered a “huh?” sound as he pulled his eyes away from the professors’ table in the Great Hall. “Yeah, pick your jaw up off the table. You’re drooling.”

 

He snapped his eyes to Sam and narrowed them. “I wasn’t drooling. I don’t drool.” The second his brother rolled his eyes and looked away, Dean wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and it came away wet.  _ God damnit.  _

 

“The fuck were you staring at anyway, Winchester?” Cato asked. Dean wasn’t prepared to answer, but he knew his best friend wasn’t going to drop it - and he didn’t. “You got the hots for McGonagall all of a sudden?” 

 

“What? No. Fuck, dude, she’s like a hundred. No.” Dean scoffed, dropping his eyes to his plate. 

 

The truth was, he  _ had  _ been staring, and maybe drooling just a little bit, but definitely not at her. Sitting between Professor McGonagall, Hogwarts’ Headmistress, and their Potions professor Rowena MacLeod, was probably the hottest guy Dean had ever seen. He could see his electric blue eyes from halfway down the Gryffindor table, even though they were half hidden by a mop of dark hair that was sticking up in the back in all the right ways. “Who’s the new guy?” 

 

“You mean Professor Novak?” Sam’s tone made it perfectly clear that Dean should have already known the mystery man’s identity. 

 

“What’s he teach?” Dean tried to keep his tone light and his curiosity at a minimum, but already had a feeling he was failing. 

 

“Charms, Flitwick finally retired.” 

 

The corner of Dean’s mouth curled up slightly.  _ That’s a definite fuckin’ improvement. Maybe my last year here will be kinda fun.  _ “Cool.”

 

Cato scoffed next to him. “Try not to pop a boner, Winchester. I’m trying to eat.” 

 

Dean’s cheeks flushed, and all he managed to get out was a muttered, “fuck off.” 

 

Professor McGonagall stood up and saved Dean from whatever dumbass comment Cato was about to make. “Attention everyone! As you can see, we have two new faces with us this year. Professors Flitwick and Slughorn retired at the conclusion of last year, and I would like to take a few moments to let your new professors introduce themselves. Professor Winchester, you have the floor.” 

 

Dean shifted in his seat and tried not to audibly groan. ‘Professor’ Winchester was Dean and Sam’s father John, and up until this exact moment, Dean had thought John had been kidding about taking over the Defense Against the Dark Arts job. He crossed his arms on the table, burying his face in them and doing his best to completely drown out whatever his father was saying. 

 

His dad talked for an almost embarrassingly long amount of time, and Dean refused to lift his head until Cato kicked him hard under the table. He lifted his head and glared at him, kicking him back. Cato jerked his head towards the front of the hall, and Dean saw Professor Novak stepping forward to change places with his dad.    
  


“Hello, everyone. My name is Castiel Novak, and I will be teaching Charms from this point forward.” Those piercing blue eyes swept over the crowd of students, and Dean could have  _ sworn  _ they lingered on him longer than necessary. “As a recent graduate of Hogwarts myself, I was eager to get Professor McGonagall’s invitation to come teach here. I loved this castle and all of its secrets, and although I enjoyed working for the Ministry of Magic, my true passion has always been teaching others. I hope you will all find my class both informative and entertaining.” Professor Novak nodded once, and Dean rolled his eyes heavily.  _ Great, so he’s hot but seriously friggen boring. I’m gonna have to break this dude out of his shell if this year is going to be half as fun as I want it to be.  _

 

McGonagall eyed him as if she was expecting him to say something else, but he didn’t. He just stared intently at each of the four house tables, and once again, Dean could have sworn he felt the man’s eyes fix on him just a little longer than everyone else. He fought a smirk, but the third time he caught Novak staring, Dean winked at him. The professor’s eyes narrowed slightly, and Dean actually chuckled - causing Sam to look back at him. “What’s so funny?” 

 

“Oh, nothin’, Sammy. I’ll tell you when you’re older.” 

 

Sam scowled. “I’m barely two years younger than you, Dean.” 

 

“Like I said. Older.” Dean shifted his eyes back to his new professor, who had already taken his seat again. Dean tried to engage in conversation with his brother and his friends as they ate, but his mind kept wandering back to Castiel Novak and his ocean blue eyes and nerdy… well, everything else. 

 

Too soon and not soon enough at the same time, they stood up from their seats and made their way back to the Gryffindor common room. Dean declined Cato’s offer to have some butterbeer and catch each other up on what happened to them over the summer and went to bed, for some reason wanting to be fully rested for tomorrow morning’s Charms lesson. 

 

\---------------------------

 

“Welcome to Charms class, everyone. As you learned last night, I’m Professor Novak. This is a seventh year course, so we’ll be focusing quite heavily on N.E.W.T. level magic - up to and including non-verbal spells.” Novak licked his bottom lip, and Dean had to physically fight the shiver that threatened to worm its way down his spine at the sight. “Before we begin, I wanted to take a moment to get to know each of you. This is a relatively small class, so I don’t think it will take up too much of the time we have allotted for this lesson, but try to keep it short. Let’s just start over here.” Novak gestured over to the opposite side of the room from Dean, to another one of his best friends. 

 

“Yeah, my name is Finnick Claflin, and I’m a riddle wrapped in an enigma wrapped inside a taco.” Finnick grinned, his dimples forming absolute craters in his cheeks. Dean chuckled quietly at the confused and slightly miffed look on Novak’s face, and immediately wondered what to say to make it worse. 

 

One by one his classmates introduced themselves, though none of their speeches were as funny as Finn’s. Finally, it was his turn. Dean stood slowly, taking a moment to straighten out his robes until he felt Novak’s eyes on him, heating his skin. He slowly lifted his gaze and quirked the corner of his mouth up. 

 

“ My name is Dean Winchester. I am an Aquarius. I enjoy sunsets, long walks on the beach, and frisky…” Dean let his smirk grow and his eyes flick down his professor’s body, “well, I’m not really all that picky.”

 

Novak’s cheeks flushed pink and Dean bit his bottom lip.  _ Oh, this is gonna be fun.  _ “I don’t take much stock in the zodiac, but I’ve heard Aquarius’s can be stubborn with an inflated sense of rightness. Let’s hope that doesn’t translate as poorly to your spellwork as it does to your attempts at flirtations.” 

 

Dean blinked and cleared his throat, suddenly defensive about his magical abilities, if not his flirting abilities. “I got this far, didn’t I?” 

 

Novak inclined his head in acknowledgement. “You did. Now, let’s see if you can show us how.” 

 

_ Shot down and he managed to steer the conversation back to school without missin’ a fuckin’ beat. Maybe he ain’t into dudes? Yeah, he’s probably just straight. Gotta be it.  _ “What’d you have in mind, Cass?” 

 

That earned him a glare, and Dean tried to keep an innocent expression.  _ Won’t be the first one I’ve turned.  _ “It’s Professor, or ‘sir’, if you’d prefer.” 

 

Dean rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. What’d you have in mind…  _ sir?”  _ Dean tilted his head as he said the last word, adopting an easy, flirty grin. 

 

“Why don’t you demonstrate to the class how to levitate your book?” 

 

Dean squinted at him. They learned  _ wingardium leviosa  _ his first year. Was he serious? “Uh, yeah, alright.” 

 

Dean cleared his throat and pointed his wand at his book, opening his mouth to say the incantation when Novak held up a hand to cut him off. “Non-verbally, Mr. Winchester. Weren’t you paying attention at the start of this lesson?” 

 

Dean flushed. “Course I was. I just…” he trailed off, furrowing his brows and concentrating on the book in front of him once more. They’d never attempted non-verbal spells, and he had no idea how these were supposed to work. In the corner of his eye, he could see his professor sitting behind his desk with his arms crossed and a smug expression on his face.  _ C’mon, Dean. Don’t blow this. Just do the damn spell and wipe that dumbass look off his face.  _ He closed his eyes and focused on making the book levitate, but nothing happened. It occurred to him that the incantation was probably still needed, so he practically shouted it in his mind. The book gave a feeble flop on the table, but Dean was impressed that the damn thing moved at all. It wasn’t bad for a first try and he knew it, but Novak was still sitting there looking triumphant. He moved as if to stand, and it was Dean’s turn to cut him off. “No, no… take a load off, Cass. I’m not done here.” 

 

He ignored the reminder of what to call him and tried again, lowering the volume in his mind and stating it just like he would if he were actually speaking it. The book rose off the table several inches, and Dean pulled his bottom lip into his mouth with his tongue. He slowly walked around his desk, maneuvering the book with him as he walked over to Novak’s desk. He jerked his wand slightly and let the book fall directly in front of his professor. He grinned at him. “You were saying?” 

 

Novak eyed the book and then brought his eyes up to meet Dean’s. “I suppose that wasn’t… terrible.” 

 

Dean clicked his tongue. “That was friggen awesome, and you know it.” 

 

“Have a seat, Mr. Winchester. Let’s see if your classmates were paying attention.” 


	2. Chapter 2

**_Castiel_ **

 

_ Dean Winchester is going to be the death of me.  _ Cass sighed and poured himself another cup of coffee in the small staff room located on the ground floor of Hogwarts. He shuffled over to one of the armchairs next to the fireplace and blew cool air over his steaming mug before taking a hesitant sip. It was still quite warm outside, even for September, but the warm liquid grounded him and pulled him back to reality.  _ He’s a student, Castiel. He’s barely legal, no matter how beautiful he might be.  _

 

“What’s got you down?” Rowena MacLeod asked. He wasn’t overly fond of the subject she taught, Potions, but Rowena herself was one of Cass’s closest friends. “Rough first day?” 

 

He shook his head slightly. “The students are… difficult. Especially in my N.E.W.T. level class.” 

 

She looked concerned. “Any of them in particular?” 

 

He glanced briefly around him and lowered his voice. “Yes, one. Dean Winchester.” 

 

She smiled knowingly. “He’s cute, isn’t he?” Her thick Scottish accent somehow made the truth even harder to ignore. 

 

“He’s a handful.” 

 

She cackled. “I bet he is! You going to find out, then?” 

 

His face reddened for the second time that day. “Rowena, he’s my  _ student.  _ That would be highly inappropriate, don’t you think?” 

 

“I won’t tell if you won’t.” She winked at him and then straightened up in her chair, clearing her throat and looking over his shoulder. 

 

“Hello, John,” she purred. “We were just talking about your son, Dean.” 

 

_ Son?!  _ Cass whirled around to face the man behind him, probably too quickly. “You’re Dean Winchester’s father?” 

 

The man nodded and stuck out his hand. “John Winchester. Defense Against the Dark Arts, in case you weren’t  payin’ attention at the feast. You’re Castiel Novak, youngest professor Hogwarts has ever hired.” 

 

Cass reluctantly shook his hand and tried not to swallow too obviously. John Winchester was easily three inches taller than him and had probably thirty five pounds on him. His hands were rough and calloused, suggesting that he either had a side job or he was very well acquainted with defending himself against the Dark Arts. Either way, Cass knew immediately this wasn’t a man he wanted to get on the bad side of. “It’s true. I’m only twenty two, but I assure you I earned my place here.” 

 

John chuckled. “That’s gotta be weird, right? Bein’ nearly the same age as some of your students?” 

 

Cass nodded. “I’m already having difficulties getting  _ some  _ of them to address me properly.” 

 

“That’ll be Dean, am I right?” John shook his head with a slight smile. “Yeah, he’s always had a bit of a problem with authority.”

 

“You don’t say.” 

 

“He’ll warm up to you soon enough. If he gives you any serious trouble, you let me know and I’ll straighten his ass out.” 

 

Cass didn’t want to know what John Winchester’s version of  _ straightening his ass out  _ entailed, but Cass had a few ideas of his own. Terrible, filthy ideas that he definitely should not be having about a student, and especially not when that student’s father was sitting close enough to strangle him to death. “I’m sure it won’t be a problem. I anticipated such issues, especially with Dean’s age group since there is only about a four and a half year difference between us. I don’t know if I would have easily accepted such a young professor myself before they proved themselves.” 

 

John nodded. “You’ll be alright, Novak. And like I said, if you’re not… you know how to find me.” He stood up and clapped a heavy, strong hand on Cass’s shoulder and he tried not to outwardly cringe. 

 

After John had safely disappeared out of the staff room, Cass turned his attention back to Rowena, who immediately bursted out into giggles. “That was close! Don’t fancy being you when he figures out you’ve got the hots for his firstborn child.” 

 

“Firstborn? Dean has siblings here?” Cass’s interest was piqued, but dread simultaneously filled his stomach. One Winchester was quite enough, he didn’t need an entire family of them running around. It also suddenly occurred to him that he had just admitted he found Dean Winchester attractive.  _ At least he’s legal, even if he’s your student. And we would have been students here at the same time, he’d have been a third year when I graduated.  _

 

“Just the one, his younger brother Samuel. He’s a fifth year Gryffindor.” 

 

Cass relaxed his shoulders slightly. Fifth year’s were generally better tempered, and he highly doubted a fifteen year old would be as brazen as Dean. 

 

“Well, alright then.” He shifted in his seat and took another sip of his coffee. “So what else has changed since I left?” 

 

Their conversation mercifully steered away from Dean Winchester and his irritatingly green eyes and ridiculous constellation of freckles. They fell into easy banter, and he found himself grateful that at least he had Ro to keep him grounded. 

 

————————

 

Sunday night, Cass paced in his small bedroom. Tomorrow morning he would have class with Dean again, and he was determined to handle it better this time. 

 

_ Don’t let him get to you. It’s your duty to remain professional, no matter what comes out of his mouth.  _ He set the glass of whiskey he’d been nursing down and headed to the bathroom, brushing his teeth and splashing cool water on his face before changing into his pajamas and crawling into bed. 

 

It took him an annoyingly long time to fall asleep, and when he did… he dreamt of all the things he would do with Dean Winchester’s mouth. 

 

————————

 

The next morning, he sat at his desk in the Charms classroom and fidgeted with his stationary and quills. They were all already laying perfectly straight, but he was antsy and nervous and didn’t know what else to do with his hands. 

 

Dean was one of the first students to arrive, and Cass cursed the way his stomach flipped when Dean clicked his tongue and winked at him as he took a seat towards the front. “Mornin’ Professor.” 

 

_ Be normal.  _ “Good morning, Mr. Winchester.” 

 

Dean smirked. “Aww c’mon, Cass. Call me Dean.”

 

“I will address you by Mr. Winchester, and you will refer to me as ‘Professor’ or ‘sir,’ is that clear?” Cass raised one eyebrow and had kept his voice as steady and low as he could. 

 

Dean swallowed thickly and Cass fought a smirk at the sight.  _ It’s kind of cute that he thinks he’d be the dominant one.  _

 

The rest of the class trickled in and found their seats. Cass realized he was already losing his battle at remaining professional, so he cleared his throat and determinedly didn’t look at Dean again.  _ This can’t happen. Just ignore him.  _

 

He spent the lesson doubling back to actually explain how non-verbal spells functioned, even though the impromptu switch in last week’s lesson meant several of his students could already perform basic spells without the aid of the verbal incantations. 

 

More than once, Dean chimed in with an inappropriate comment or raised his hand to answer a question, but Cass didn’t acknowledge him with anything more than a small smile and a very brief glance. Dean was visibly  getting more frustrated by this as the lesson went on, and Cass was almost proud of himself for denying Dean the attention he’d so obviously come to expect. 

 

By the end of the lesson, Cass’s nerves were on edge. This certainly wasn’t helped in any capacity by the low, rumbling groan Dean let out when Cass assigned the homework for that week. He knew it was a sound of frustration and disappointment, but no amount of self-control in the world could have stopped his mind from wandering to all of the ways he could illicit more satisfied sounds from his student.  _ Damnit, Dean.  _

 

He finally allowed himself to look at Dean as the students started gathering their things and exiting his classroom. Dean was still in his seat, brushing the feather on his quill between his fingers and biting his lip in concentration. It looked suspiciously to Castiel that Dean was planning on staying after class, and he couldn’t for the life of him come up with a single reason why that wouldn’t end with him getting sacked in his second week. 

 

Cass gathered up his papers and hurriedly shoved them into his leather bag, slinging it over his shoulder and disappearing through his office door. He shut it behind him and leaned against it, letting out a breath.  _ It’s going to be a long year.  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This updates every Wednesday, time of day will vary.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is being updated early because I’m writing it a lot faster than I’d anticipated. Enjoy!

_**Dean** :  _

 

He heard the door shut before he even registered that Cass was walking away. His eyes jerked towards it and he slammed his quill down on his desk. He had a feeling he fucked up in a big way, but couldn’t work out exactly what he did. Maybe it was that he wouldn’t call him sir? If so, that’s a dumbass reason to all of a sudden pretend like one of your students didn’t exist. 

 

Dean never cared a whole lot about how he did in his classes. Magic came easy to him, but he needed to pass this class with at least an E on his N.E.W.T if he wanted to be an Auror when he graduated. He’d been hanging back to apologize to Cass, to try and mend things before he fucked up his whole future over flirting with a man that obviously wasn’t even gay. 

 

He stood, annoyance and something like shame coursing through him and heating up his skin. He grabbed his quill and a spare bit of parchment and walked over to Cass’s desk, hastily scribbling a note before picking up the rest of his things and hurrying out of the room. 

 

_ Sorry, professor.  _

_ -D. Winchester  _

 

————————

 

That night at dinner, Dean’s eyes kept searching for Professor Novak, but the man never showed up. He hastily shoved his food into his mouth, chewing it almost aggressively.

 

“You’re food ain’t going anywhere, Winchester. Relax.” Finn’s voice cut through his thoughts, and Dean glared at him. 

 

“I’m fine, mind your own damn business, Finnick.” 

 

His eyebrows raised. “Since when do  _ you  _ call me by my full name?” 

 

Dean rolled his eyes. “Will you just shut up? When are Quidditch tryouts?” 

 

“Do you want me to shut up, or do you want me to tell you when tryouts are?” 

 

Finn was the Captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch Team, and for the last 5 years, Dean had been their Seeker. He took a moment to swallow his food and compose himself. “Tryouts.” 

 

“First week of November. All we need this year is a Keeper and a Beater, and I’ve already got people in mind for both.” 

 

“Yeah?” Dean asked, his mind  _ finally  _ focusing on something other than his Charms professor. 

 

Finn nodded. “Yeah, Benny Lafitte has finally decided to try out for Beater. Been after his ass for the last four years. And for Keeper, there’s a second year that Madam Hooch said hasn’t let a goal in yet during flying lessons.”

 

Benny was a year younger than Dean, though you’d never know it by looking at him. He was a couple of inches taller than Dean, which was actually saying a lot because Dean himself was over six foot tall. He was all broad shoulders and beefy muscles, and Dean had had more than one late night fantasy about what it would be like to kiss the length of his jawline.  _ This is good. Maybe Benny and Quidditch are exactly the distractions I need.  _

 

As dinner progressed and he delved into conversation about past Quidditch matches with Finn, he found himself thinking less and less about the blue eyed, infuriatingly hot professor. Dean was going to be fine. 

 

————————

 

When the first week of November came, Dean was feeling a lot better about his future. He had assumed Professor Novak got his note, because in the lessons that followed, he was treating Dean just like any other student. Sure, some glances were a little more intense than they needed to be and his gaze still sent chills down Dean’s spine, but hey. It had been a weird start and they were still only a couple of months into the school year. 

 

Dean, for his part, had been behaving. He limited himself to one, maybe two comments a lesson that he would never think to make to other Professors, and he no longer made it a point to show up first or to try and hang back to catch Cass after class. He’d never been successful at the second part of that, anyway. 

 

His attraction to the man hadn’t lessened at all, but his grades had maintained themselves at a passing level and that alone was keeping him in check. 

 

After Quidditch tryouts, Finn’s predictions had been correct. Benny joined the team as a Beater, and the second year he’d been telling Dean about had been chosen as Keeper. She was a small, squirrelly little thing named Krissy, but she was aggressive as hell and even their own Chasers had a hard time getting anything past her. 

 

They were currently celebrating in the Gryffindor common room with firewhisky and butterbeer, and Dean was slowly making his way closer to Benny. Anything to keep his mind off of Cass, off his dad, and off of his mounting pile of homework. 

 

“Congrats, man.” 

 

Benny gave him a quick once-over, like he hasn’t seen Dean already a hundred times. “Thank ya kindly, brother. Glad to be a part of the team.” 

 

“Been meanin’ to ask you. Where’s that accent from?” 

 

“Oh, I’m not from around here. Won’t be stayin’ long, neither. Maybe a few more months, then I’ll probably end up in Ilvermorny or Durmstrang.”

 

“Uh-huh,” Dean nodded. “Why’s that?” 

 

Benny raised his eyebrow. “Do you actually care about the answer to that, brother?” 

 

Dean grinned. “Nah, but can’t say I don’t enjoy listenin’ to you talk.” 

 

That earned him an eye roll. He grinned wider. 

 

He saw Sam looking at him funny and quickly cleared his throat, keeping a safe but not unreasonable distance from Benny for the rest of the night. 

 

A glance here, a wink there. Just enough to let him know he was interested without making a scene in front of his little brother. 

 

Benny seemed to get the hint, and when Finn loudly announced to the whole common room that they’d be going to the Three Broomsticks that weekend, Benny gave Dean the universal body language sign for  _ you and me?  _

 

Dean cocked his head to the side and bit his lip, making a show of pretending to decide. When Benny answered him with two raised eyebrows and crossed arms, Dean relaxed and nodded, his smirk plastered on his face. 

 

_ Perfect.  _

 

\----------------------------

 

“Mr. Winchester, would it  _ kill  _ you to pay attention?”

 

Dean jerked. “Huh? No, probably not, but why risk it, y’know?” 

 

“If I’m boring you so much, perhaps you would like to demonstrate to the class how the Area spell works?” Cass’s bitch face was in full force, which only egged Dean on. 

 

“Isn’t that the one where you shock everyone around you? I mean, I can do that, but…” He pulled the tip of his feather quill between his teeth as he smirked, which he realized too late was a motion that worked better with a muggle pen. He refused to backtrack, no matter how gross it was. “You might not be real happy about the results.” 

 

Cass narrowed his eyes. “The spell, Dean. You can save the theatrics for a group of people that might  _ actually  _ show an interest.” 

 

A few of his classmates snickered, and once again Dean felt his face heating up. He covered with sarcasm. “You tellin’ me you’re not interested, Cass? You’re breakin’ my heart.” 

 

“I’m very interested in you actually paying attention and getting something accomplished once in awhile,” he countered. “And it’s  _ sir,  _ or  _ Professor Novak.” _

 

“Yeah, you want me to shock people. I agreed, it ain’t my fault your mind is in the gutter.” 

 

Finally,  _ finally,  _ Novak looked flustered. “Then do it, Mr. Winchester. I don’t appreciate being kept waiting.” 

 

Something in the timbre of his voice sent chills down Dean’s spine, which he made every effort to hide. “Yeah, alright. You gonna tell me the incantation or am I supposed to read your mind?” 

 

He watched with no small level of satisfaction as Cass shifted in his seat, looking more uncomfortable than Dean had ever seen him. “It’s on page 413 of your Charms book. Look it up, I’m not going to do  _ everything  _ for you.”

 

“Eh, don’t sweat it, Novak. Usually I’m the one doin’ all the work.” He winked, and Cass answered with an eye roll that employed his entire body. 

 

Satisfied that he’d made Cass sufficiently uncomfortable for the day, Dean decided to do actual work. It took him more tries than he cared to admit before finally getting the Area spell right, but he  _ did  _ get it right. 

 

Sort of.

 

Basically.

 

When it was time to switch lessons, he broke his own cardinal rule and hung back as the rest of the class filed out. He had no intention of talking to Cass, but every intention on making a few things crystal clear. 

 

He didn’t have to wait long. Benny showed up in the doorway and leaned against it. “You ready to go?” 

 

Dean threw the last of his books into his bag and glanced once at Cass, just to make sure he hadn’t run off to his office again. “Yeah, hell yeah I’m ready. Been lookin’ forward to our  _ date  _ all morning.” He had a free period, which meant him and Benny were going to sneak off behind the Quidditch Pitch for a little while. He sensed more than saw Cass look up at the way Dean said “date,” and just to make sure he drove his point home, he pulled Benny into a kiss that was probably more noisy than strictly necessary, just in case he was wrong about Cass watching. 

 

When he pulled back, he wasn’t disappointed. He turned to look at Cass, who was sitting in his chair looking like he’d just seen a ghost. He winked at Cass for what felt like the hundredth time, then slid his hand down to lace with Benny’s. “See? Told ya I wasn’t all that picky.” 

 

He knew he’d have to pay for that one later with Benny, but the resulting expression on Cass’s face was worth whatever bullshit he had to spin to smooth things over. 


	4. Chapter 4

**_Castiel:_ **

 

_ Dean kissed Benny. Dean is going on a date with Benny. Benny is a man. Dean likes - Dean’s…  _

 

_ Stop. Nothing has changed. You knew this already anyway, even before he shoved the proof in your face. He’s still your student. You are still bound by oath to do what’s best for your students, and that includes remaining professional at all times.  _

 

_ Even if what’s best for Dean might include getting bent over your desk and fucked hard enough that the inkwells topple over and cover the stack of homework you’ve been grading.  _

 

At the end of the day, he packed up his things and headed straight for the dungeons. He passed a Gryffindor in Dean’s year, Cato something-or-other on the way into the room. Rowena was cleaning up the aftermath of her last lesson, so Cass dropped his bags on one of the recently cleared desks and sat down. 

 

“He’s gay. Or, bi, or… I suppose it doesn’t matter what the label is. He’s interested in men.” 

 

Rowena was silent as she waved her wand to clear out one of the last few cauldrons. “And this is somehow…  _ new  _ information?” 

 

Cass loosened his tie and clenched his jaw. “No, but seeing the proof was different. All I had before were assumptions.” 

 

She stopped and turned towards him. “Can you ignore it? Ignore  _ him? _ ” 

 

_ That’s the question, isn’t it.  _

 

“Yes.” 

 

“But do you want to ignore him?”

 

_ I take that back.  _ **_That’s_ ** _ the question.  _

 

“I want to keep my job.” 

 

“Perhaps you wandered into the wrong classroom then. Should’ve gone to Defense Against the Dark Arts. Spending some time with the boy’s father might be just the thing you need to keep it in your pants.” 

 

He grimaced. “I already spend more time with him than I’d prefer. He started coming to my office and bringing food and alcohol with him. Most of the time he just wants to talk, I don’t think he has many friends here.” 

 

Rowena raised an eyebrow. “ _ Most  _ of the time? Don’t tell me you’re -”

 

“What! No, no, nothing like that. Sometimes he just sits there. It’s strange and a little intimidating, to be honest. I get the feeling he wants something from me but he’s afraid to ask.” 

 

She giggled. “Not unlike you with Junior, eh?” 

 

Cass rolled his eyes. “Shut up.” 

 

\-----------------

 

The following month was tense, to say the least. Benny had been coming to get Dean after every Monday morning lesson, and without fail, the two displayed some sort of affection before departing. Dean was still pushing boundaries in class, but after his talk with Rowena, Cass had become a lot better at ignoring it. He knew better than to go back to pretending he couldn’t see Dean, that wouldn’t be helpful to anyone, but he was at least at a point where he could treat him like any other student. 

 

Any other devastatingly hot, pain-in-the-ass in all the wrong ways, charming, cocky, extremely talented student. 

 

Cass waited patiently for the students to arrive for the final Charms lesson before Christmas break. True to form, Dean showed up early. 

 

“Mornin’, Professor.”

 

“Good morning, Mr. Winchester.” 

 

“Dude, seriously? Please. Call me Dean. Mr. Winchester is my dad, and it creeps me out when people call me that. You’re the only professor that does it.” 

 

Cass tilted his head. “Oh. Of course… Dean. My apologies.” 

 

Dean relaxed into his seat and started pulling out his books. “Don’t worry, I’ll still call you ‘sir’ or whatever.” 

 

Cass had to shift his hips further under his desk as thoughts of Dean calling him  _ sir  _ in an entirely different context made their way to the forefront of his mind. He cleared his throat and grasped for a change of subject. “This is the last lesson before break. Do you think you could attempt to stay on topic today?”

 

Dean looked at him and grinned. It was a wide, smirk of a thing that had the muscles in Cass’s jaw flexing and his back straightening out. “What’s amatter, professor? Can’t handle me?”

 

For a moment, Castiel completely forgot he was in a classroom. Where he worked. Where he was supposed to be teaching Dean.  _ But oh, the  _ **_things_ ** _ I could teach Dean Winchester.  _

 

“I can  _ handle  _ you just fine, Dean.” And if the phrase  _ in more ways than one  _ popped into his head, at least he didn’t say it out loud. 

 

“I dunno, professor. I’ve been told I’m a handful.” 

 

Dean winked. 

 

“That’s quite alright, Dean. I’ve got big hands.” 

 

Dean’s face went slack, and it was that alone that made Cass realize he’d pushed too far. That was the first time he’d ever played into one of Dean’s goadings, and they both knew it. His mind was half-heartedly scrambling for something to say that would pull this back on track, but he’d run out of time. The other students started filing in the classroom, and Finnick Claflin stole Dean’s attention. 

 

Or, he was trying to. Dean was still pointedly staring at Cass around Finnick’s muscular frame. It was intense, too intense, and Cass wasn’t sure he could stand another second of it. He cleared his throat. 

 

“Take your seats, please. I know you’re all eager to begin your Christmas holiday, but I still have a class to teach.” 

 

He tried his best to stay focused during the lesson, but Dean’s eyes never left him. It was also an embarrassingly long amount of time before he had calmed down enough to actually stand up and move away from his desk, something he was certain Dean knew from the way his gaze turned almost predatory as it swept over him. 

 

_ Maybe he’s more dominant than I thought.  _

 

After the lesson, Dean hung back. 

 

“You can wait for Mr. Lafitte in the hallway, you know that, right?” 

 

Dean shook his head a little bit. “Nah, Benny’s gone. Or, will be anyway. His family’s movin’ somewhere else. We uhh… called it quits a few days ago.” 

 

This was decidedly information that was better off on the list of things Castiel  _ didn’t  _ know. “Oh. I’m sorry to hear that, Dean. At least you can go home for the holiday and relax for awhile.” 

 

“Wrong again, professor. Dad’s takin’ Sammy to some museum across the pond and I ain’t goin’. Finn wants the team to stay here over the break and work on some drills, apparently he thinks we won’t have a shot at beatin’ Slytherin next month without like a thousand hours of practice.” 

 

Cass tilted his head. “Oh. Is your mother going with your father and Sam?” 

 

Dean’s eyes dropped to the desk. “She uhh… she’s not really goin’ anywhere with anyone. She died a long time ago.” 

 

Dean started putting his things back in his bag, and Cass had to try very hard not to go over there and stop him by pulling him into a hug. “I’m sorry.” 

 

“Look man - professor, sir, whatever - like I said, it was a long time ago. Don’t worry about it, okay? You don’t gotta get all weird on me just cuz you got a family to go home to and I don’t.” He slung his bag over his shoulder and started for the door. Cass knew he should just let him go, but he couldn’t handle the thought of Dean thinking Cass pitied him. Not when it was so far from the truth the two things weren’t even in the same hemisphere.

 

“I never knew my parents.” 

 

Dean stopped. He didn’t turn, but his head tilted down and slightly to the side. Cass continued, “My mother died giving birth to me, and my father… well, I never met him. I grew up in a foster home until it was time to come here, to Hogwarts. I was fortunate enough that some of my friends’ families took me in over the summer breaks. I don’t pity you, Dean. I simply… understand what it’s like.” 

 

Dean tapped the doorframe with his palm. Cass watched as his shoulders visibly relaxed, and he saw more than heard him expel a sharp breath. “Right. Sorry for assuming, it’s just… most people just feel sorry for me, and I don’t want it or need it. Happy Christmas, C--  _ sir.” _

 

“Happy Christmas, Dean.” 

 

Cass stayed where he was for a very, very long time. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The idiots finally figure out how to use their words.

**_Dean:_ **

 

Dean said goodbye to Sam and his dad and then spent some time in the common room. Cato eventually found him there and sat down across from him. 

 

“Bullshit we gotta stay just for Quidditch.”

 

He shook his head. “Nah, I’m actually kinda happy about it. Finn’s right, we need the practice. Not to mention, less dumbasses running around Hogsmeade this weekend. That alone is worth it, I can go get a damn beer in peace.”

 

Cato laughed. “Yeah, whatever. You’re just hoping to catch Novak away from prying eyes.” 

 

Dean choked on absolutely nothing. “Huh? The fuck are you talkin’ about?” 

 

“Cut the shit, Winchester. You don’t have to hide from me, alright? I knew about you and Benny and I know how you feel about our fucking Charms professor.” 

 

Dean swallowed and felt his cheeks flush. “Look, I didn’t say anything about Benny cuz I didn’t want you guys freakin’ out. It’s not a big deal, and trust me… you and Finn and the others ain’t my type, alright?” 

 

Cato looked confused. “What, my eyes not fucking blue enough for you, Winchester? That’s your thing, right? Dark hair, blue eyes?” 

 

It took Dean several seconds to realize Cato was just trying to show him he understood. “Yeah, uh… yeah, I mean… I didn’t really think it through like that, but I guess so. Dude, can we quit talkin’ about this? It’s fuckin’ weird.” 

 

That earned him a mocking laugh. “The great Dean Winchester, tongue tied over a couple of dudes. I never thought I’d see that day. Would it be rude of me to send Novak a fruit basket?” 

 

Dean looked around for something to throw at Cato but came up short, so he flipped him off. “Fuck you, Cato.”

 

“I thought you just said I wasn’t your type?” Cato sprung up from his seat with a laugh and ducked behind it before Dean could get close enough to physically hit him. “No, seriously, Winchester. I’m just trying to tell you it ain’t a big deal, okay? And for what it’s worth, Novak’s got the hots for you, too. I might’ve eavesdropped on him and Professor MacLeod a couple of weeks ago.” 

Cato had Dean’s  _ full  _ attention. “What now?” 

 

“You heard me. He looked like a fucking mess running into the dungeon after one of my lessons, so I hung back at the door to get the scoop. Never hurts to have ammo, especially cuz I’m not doing so hot in Charms. They were talking about  _ you _ , which tickled me fucking pink. He’s afraid if he fucks you he’s gonna get fired.” 

 

Dean knew to take everything Cato said with a grain of salt, but that didn’t mean his stomach didn’t learn about eight new gymnastics moves anyway.  “Didn’t I say I didn’t wanna talk about this shit anymore?” 

 

“Yeah, yeah. Just figured you’d wanna know, man. Relax. I’ll see you at the Three Broomsticks later?” 

 

“Yeah, I’ll fuckin’ be there. Now get outta my damn face.” 

 

\------------------

 

Dean wasn’t at all surprised to find that with the exception of one second year, the Quidditch team members were the only Gryffindors that stayed behind. There were only about 25 kids left in the whole school, and only 3 of them were old enough to drink - him, Cato, and a Slytherin seventh year Dean had never spoken to. 

 

He and Cato journeyed to Hogsmeade together, and after making a quick stop at Zonko’s and Honeydukes, they finally sat down in the Three Broomsticks. A couple of beers in, Dean finally started relaxing again. 

 

They talked about Cato’s family and his plans for after graduation, the upcoming Quidditch matches and their chances of actually winning the Cup, Sam’s trip, and some of the homework assignments they had to complete before break was over. It was nice, easy conversation that wasn’t taking any dangerous turns - until Cass walked in. 

 

Dean’s eyes followed him as he walked through the door and took a moment to wipe his shoes on the carpet and shake some snow from his hair. He knew Cato was still talking, but he couldn’t for the life of him focus on a single damn word he was saying. It wasn’t until he completely missed his mouth while trying to take a drink that he realized just how zoned out he really was. 

 

“Fuck.” He set his glass down and pulled his wet shirt away from his chest. “God damnit.” 

 

Cato scoffed. “You got it bad, Winchester. Go talk to him.” 

 

He snapped his eyes to Cato’s. “What? Hell no. No, no freakin’ way dude. Not happening.” 

 

Cato glanced behind him to where Cass was now sitting at the bar. He looked back to Dean with a mischievous glint in his eyes that had dread pooling in Dean’s gut. “Fine, you’re too chicken shit to do it, I’ll have him come to you.” 

 

Dean barely had time to bark out a “ _ Cato!”  _ before his friend was out of the booth and leaning in next to Cass. He clenched his jaw and wiped his hands on his jeans, fidgeting and trying to look like he  _ wasn’t  _ coming apart from the inside out.  _ Fucking Cato.  _

 

Not enough time passed before Cass was sliding into the booth where Cato had been sitting. Dean glanced around for him, and saw Cato wink and grin before he left the Three Broomsticks entirely. Dean knew his facial expression was giving away every ounce of irritation and nervousness he felt, but it was way too fucking late to do anything about it. 

 

“Hiya, professor.” He forced a grin.    
  
“Dean, we’re on break and not even on school grounds. If there was ever a time when it was appropriate for you to call me ‘Cass,’ it would be now.” 

 

_ No. Nope. Nuh-uh. Not a chance. Can’t do it. Won’t do it.  _ “Yeah, alright. So uhh… what brings you here, Cass?”  _ GOD FUCKING DAMNIT.  _

 

Cass raised a single eyebrow. “Cato mentioned you needed assistance with your Charms homework. Although, now that I look around and see that you haven’t brought it with you, I’m getting the sense he wasn’t being entirely honest with me.” 

 

Dean let out a slow breath, trying to buy himself time. “Yeah, uhh… didn’t wanna risk spilling anything on it so I left it back in the dorms, but uhh… sure. Yeah, need help. Let’s go with that.” 

 

Cass just waited, staring expectantly at him.  _ Shit, this is probably the part where I need to actually ask for help. But I don’t need help, the assignment’s fuckin’ done.  _

 

“Oh, uh… it’s not a big deal. Just didn’t know if you wanted 8 or 10 inches for this one.” 

 

“I’m not expecting ten inches, Dean. Eight is usually more than sufficient. I didn’t put a length on it for a reason, as long as it’s six or above, you should be able to make your point.” 

 

Dean’s hands curled into fists at his sides and he dug his nails into his palms.  _ He’s talking about fucking parchment length, Dean, not your fuckin’ dick. Don’t do what you always do.  _

 

But one look at the innocent expression on Cass’s face had him relaxing and leaning forward a little bit on the table. “I’ve got a solid 7.5.” He paused to take a drink, setting the glass down deliberately slow. “But my homework is more like 9. I’m a little long winded when I’m…  _ interested.”  _ He smirked, and Cass fucking  _ squirmed.  _

“Dean.” The word was laced with warning, and Dean immediately shut down. His hands landed on the seat on either side of his legs and he bowed his head. “Yeah, sorry, Professor. Guess this ain’t the time, huh?” 

 

“Can I ask you something?” 

 

Dean flicked his eyes up to Cass’s for a moment but dropped them back down to his drink. “Yeah, man. Go for it.” 

 

Cass took a deep breath and double-checked the area around them. They were almost completely alone. “Do you not respect me? Is that why it took you so long to address me properly?” 

 

“What? No, it uhhh, it definitely wasn’t a respect thing. I dunno, you were fun to mess with.” 

 

“And now I’m not.” Cass nodded, probably not expecting an answer since it technically wasn’t a question. 

 

“I didn’t say that, I just mean you weren’t really playin’ along so what was the point? I just ended up sounding like an ass. I just misread things, that’s all. And I just did it again. It’s all good.” 

 

Cass tilted his head as Dean took another drink. “What do you mean you misread things?” 

 

Dean had now had exactly enough alcohol to make himself tell the truth. “You ain’t gay, so me havin’ a giant, stupid fucking crush on you wasn’t -  _ isn’t -  _ gonna get me anywhere.” 

 

“I am, Dean.” 

 

He knew he looked needy. Desperate. Overly eager to have the meaning behind the words confirmed. He didn’t care, he poured an almost stupid amount of hope into his gaze as he fixed his eyes on Castiel’s. “You’re what, Cass?” 

 

“I think perhaps we should go somewhere a little less… public.” 

 

The coil of tension and nervousness inside of Dean was rapidly tightening. “Look around you, dude. There ain’t nobody else here. Hell, even the bartender went outside for a break. Say it, man. C’mon.” 

 

“I  _ am  _ gay, Dean. Why do you think this year has been so hard on me so far? Why I’ve been so hard on  _ you?” _

 

Dean let out a sharp, relieved breath. “I dunno, but dude, you  _ gotta  _ quit sayin’ ‘hard-on.’ You’re fuckin’ killin’ me over here.” 

 

Cass looked puzzled for a moment and then huffed a laugh. “I hadn’t even noticed. I’m sorry.” 

 

Dean laughed, his cheeks already aching from an uncharacteristically wide grin. “No, shit… don’t apologize. I’m uhh… hell, I’m relieved, I guess.” 

 

“Dean…” Cass frowned, and Dean’s grin immediately dropped. “We can’t do this. At least not until you’ve graduated. I’m still your professor, and unfortunately there isn’t another Charms class you can take. I won’t tell you I’m not interested, because that would be a  _ monumental  _ lie, but I can’t risk losing my position. I worked too hard to get here.” 

 

Dean’s stomach found a new home somewhere near his big toe. “Nah, of course. Yeah, I uhhh… yeah. I get it. Didn’t think somethin’ would happen or anything, so don’t sweat it.”

 

“You’ve got roughly six months left. Do you think you can wait for me? I don’t know if I can handle seeing you with another Benny.” 

 

Dean’s stomach rocketed back up, but didn’t stop until it was in his damn throat. “Huh?” 

 

Cass glanced around again and then put a warm, broad hand over his. Dean stared at it as heat coursed through his veins. “I’m asking you to wait for me. After you graduate, I’m very,  _ very  _ interested in seeing where this could go.” 

 

Dean swallowed, his eyes still glued to their hands. “Yeah, yeah. Okay, yeah, I can do that.” 

 

Cass smiled, and it was warm and inviting and fucking  _ beautiful.  _ “Thank you, Dean.” 

 

The bell above the door signaled that someone was entering the bar, Cass’s hand slid off of his, and the moment was over. 

 

_ Six more months.  _


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein Cass finds out what John wants from him, and it complicates things.

**_Castiel_ **

 

The urge to lean over and kiss Dean was nearly too much. Now that he had confirmation that he wasn’t crazy and Dean really  _ had  _ been flirting with him, he was overwhelmed by how badly he wanted to have those lips on his. 

 

But they had agreed to wait. He’d  _ have  _ to wait, settled in the knowledge that one day, that kiss would actually come. 

 

He stayed at the table as long as he dared, and when he got up he put a hand on Dean’s shoulder and squeezed it lightly. It occurred to him then that tonight was the first time he’d ever been able to touch Dean at all, and suddenly even such a simple gesture became almost too much. His hand lingered and the look on Dean’s face showed him that he wasn’t the only one that felt that way. 

 

He very nearly broke. Very nearly pulled Dean off of his seat and led him somewhere private to do all of the things he’d been fantasizing about. 

 

But he didn’t. He smiled lightly and forced his hand to return to his side and then turned and left, each step more difficult than the last. Once he was safely back into the cold December air, he took a deep breath and closed his eyes.  _ Six months, Castiel. You can do this. You must. Limit contact with him if you have to.  _

 

He returned to his home and slept fitfully. 

 

————————

 

Two weeks later, he was grading papers in his office when John Winchester came in with firewhiskey and food from the kitchens. 

 

“Evenin’, Novak. Mind if I pull up a chair?”

 

Cass sighed quietly but nodded. “Of course, John. Come in.”

 

“Good being back in the swing of things, huh?” He poured each of them a glass, and Cass took his with an appreciative smile. 

 

“Yes. I think the students have finally settled in again as well.” He took a slow sip and eyed his visitor, wondering if they were ever going to get to the reason for these little after-hours meetings. 

 

“Yeah, uhh… speaking of that.”

 

John stopped speaking and looked uncomfortable, which Castiel took as a good sign. “John, if there’s something I can assist you with, you need only ask.”

 

“Right, yeah. It’s um… it’s not for me. I was wondering if you could… maybe tutor my son?”

 

Cass frowned. “I’d be happy to, John, but I don’t see what the purpose would be. Sam is at the top of his class in every subject. There isn’t much I could teach him at this stage unless we moved into higher level magic, which could make his last years here incredibly boring.”

 

John smiled proudly. “Yeah, Sammy’s great, isn’t he? Smart as a whip, that one. I actually meant my other kid. Dean? You know him, right?” 

 

Cass shifted in his seat. “Yes, I know him. Dean’s quite intelligent as well, what subject does he need help in?” 

 

“Mainly potions and transfiguration. He’s doing okay in my class, but I can help him with that one anyway. He seems to be doing a lot better in Charms than any other subject, and considering how high his marks have gotten since last year, I’m thinking it’s because of you. I’d really appreciate it if you could just help him out, maybe a couple of times a week? He doesn’t like accepting help, but he speaks real highly of you, and like I said… he does better with you as a professor than anyone else. Just think about it, okay? He wants to be an Auror and he’s gotta do well in these N.E.W.T.’s.”

 

_ This is a trap. A horrible, bizarre fucking trap. He knows, and he’s baiting you.  _

 

Cass studied John, looking for any sign of deception, but he saw none. Looking back at him, all he saw was a man ashamed he needed to ask for help, as if not being able to tutor Dean himself was somehow a shortcoming.  _ This isn’t a trap, he just cares about his son and doesn’t know how to help him himself.  _

 

He knew it was a bad idea. He was basically signing up to be alone with Dean in an empty classroom multiple times a week until the end of the year, but he’d apparently left his common sense on Christmas break. “Of course, John. I’ll talk to him about it Monday and we’ll get started immediately, provided that he accepts. I won’t be able to help him if he doesn’t want it.” 

 

John beamed and reached over Castiel’s desk to shake one of his hands with both of his. “Thank you, Castiel. Thank you. I might not’ve been much of a dad to them for a lot of their life, but maybe my boys can turn out better than I did.” 

 

Cass’s face flushed as John finally sat back down. “It’s not a problem, and from what I’ve seen, you’ve done a great job with both of them.”

 

John’s smile took on a sad undertone. “Nah, Dean gets all the credit. After Mary died, I wasn’t much good to either of ‘em. Dean was only four when it happened, but he’s been taking care of Sammy ever since. A couple of years ago I finally started to get my shit together and McGonagall agreed to give me a shot at teaching. She’s a great woman, Minerva. Was better to me than what I deserved. So now I’m just tryin’ to do my best for my boys.” 

 

Cass smiled. “Better late than never. I’ll do what I can for Dean, and Sam, too, if he ever needs me.” 

 

“Y’know what, Novak? You’re alright. The kind of guy I’d want my daughter to date if I had one.”

 

Cass was very grateful he hadn’t been attempting to drink anything at that moment.  _ Let’s hope you say the same thing about your son in six months.  _

 

———————

 

The following Monday, Cass asked Dean to stay behind after class. He was met with an awkward look, and Cass tried to smile to show he wasn’t in trouble. 

 

_ No,  _ **_I’m_ ** _ the one in trouble here.  _

 

The rest of the students left, and Dean took a hesitant glance towards the door before looking back at him. “Did I do somethin’ wrong?”

 

Cass shook his head. “No, of course not, Dean. I wanted to offer my services; your father told me you might need a little guidance in some of your classes. N.E.W.T. level lessons are incredibly difficult.” 

 

Dean blushed. “I’m doin’ fine, I don’t know why he told you that. Don’t worry about it.” 

 

“Dean, please don’t be like that. I know - I know how difficult it must have been taking care of Sam your whole life. You don’t need to do everything all on your own anymore, not even this. I can help, Dean. Please.” 

 

Dean was silent for almost too long. “So what, you tutor me or some shit?”

 

He nodded. “Yes, but my level of involvement will be up to you. John made a good point, you get extremely high marks in my class - and I assure you, you’ve earned every one of them. He thinks you learn better from my style of teaching. That’s all it is, Dean. We just want to help you succeed.”

 

For a moment, Castiel believed Dean was still going to refuse. He had a defiant look in his eyes that mirrored years of rebelling against any indication that he wasn’t capable of doing something on his own.  

 

“I still gotta call you  _ sir?” _

 

Cass grinned. “If it means you’ll agree and your father  _ won’t  _ beat my ass in the middle of the staff room, you can call me whatever you’d like.”


	7. Chapter 7

**_Dean:_ **

 

Dean knew that his dad and Cass were just trying to help. He also knew he _needed_ the help if he was actually going to become an Auror. That didn’t mean he wasn’t fifty shades of pissed off about it, though.

 

“Dean, pay attention, you’re gonna need to know this later on - both in exams and in your career choice.”

 

He raised his eyebrows as he looked at his dad. “Yeah, I got it. Inferi are like really suicidal zombies.”

 

His dad gave him the same look he used to right before things would get bad at home. He straightened up in his seat and leveled a glare right at him, daring him to do something in front of an entire classroom of witnesses.

 

“I’m glad you brought zombies into this. Can you share with the class three differences between zombies and Inferi? You know, since you were paying attention.”

 

His face flushed, and he hated it. He spent a moment chewing on his lip to buy time - not because he didn’t know the answer, but because he wanted to piss him off. “Yeah, alright. So they’re both considered ‘living dead,’ yeah? Zombies are usually reanimated by accident, where Inferi are brought back on purpose. Experiments gone wrong versus intentional mayhem, y’know? Zombies wanna eat your brains, turn you intoone of them. Inferi, their mission is to kill outright, and they’re incapable of ‘turning’ someone living into an Inferius. Zombies ain’t real picky, they see a human and they go after ‘em. Inferi are usually enchanted to either target specific people or to guard a specific place, and they’d only go after the people that got too close. And last - and this is four, for anybody keepin’ track - zombies can usually be dealt with by trauma to the head. You can bash an Inferius’s brains in all you want, but those fuckers won’t die till you light their asses on fire.” He grinned and winked at Lisa Braeden, who was sitting next to him. “Doesn’t have to be their ass though, any part of the body will do the trick.”

 

“Five points to Gryffindor for coming up with a fourth, ten points _from_ Gryffindor for your language. Now, moving on…”

 

Dean scowled and rolled his eyes as his father droned on, and he sunk a little lower in his seat. He knew damn well that Dean knew what Inferi were, they’d hunted enough of them during their summers off. Why he had to put Dean on the spot like that _and_ take points off when Dean didn’t fucking do anything, he’d never know.

 

Oh wait, that’s a lie. John Winchester was a grade-A dickbag, and Dean was just the unlucky son of a bitch that got to call him Dad.

 

The lesson seemed to take forever, and he packed up his bags quickly in an effort to get out of there.

 

“Dean! Hang back, I wanna talk to you about something.”

 

_You gotta be fuckin’ kiddin’ me._

 

He waited as the room emptied out and then turned towards his dad, clenching his jaw and adopting his best _give me your best shot_ stance.

 

“Did you talk to Professor Novak?”

 

He wanted to say no, wanted to spit in his face and tell him either that Cass never offered or that Dean had refused anyway, but Cass’s comment about getting his ass beat in the staff room echoed in his head. He wouldn’t put it past his dad to do exactly that. “Yeah, I’m actually headed there now for the first little tutoring sesh, so if you wouldn’t mind…” he gestured towards the door. John visibly relaxed, which made Dean even stiffer. “Why the hell do you even care?”

 

“I’m a lot of things, Dean. But I’m not an idiot. I know I’ve fucked up with you and Sammy a lot, more than what I could ever make up for. But I’m trying, okay? Took weeks to get up the nerve to even ask Professor Novak if he’d help you, but I did it. And he agreed, even though I’m pretty sure he didn’t want to. So you go, you take whatever help he’s willing to give you, and you make yourself be better than me. You hear me, boy? You and Sammy both need to grow up and be better than I was.”

 

“Yeah, won’t take much, will it?”

 

“Stop, c’mon. Don’t be like that. I know I’ve got a lot to make up for, but with both of you lookin’ for jobs in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, I’m doin’ what I can to get you there. I took this job to help out where I could at school, but also to make some contacts at the Ministry other than the ones we’ve done jobs for.”

 

“Oh, that’s a pretty fuckin’ normal way to put _hits,_ dad. This mean you’re finally gonna quit draggin’ me along on your bullshit “hunting” trips?” Dean scoffed and didn’t wait for an answer. “Thanks for gettin’ Novak on my side, I gotta go.” He roughly grabbed his bag from his desk and turned around, ignoring his dad’s pleas for him to stop as he left the room.

 

Twenty minutes later, he was still fuming as he barged into Cass’s office. He threw his bag down and didn’t bother trying to change the look on his face. “Let’s just do this shit, alright? The faster we get outta here, the better.”

 

Cass was unnervingly calm, which did nothing for Dean’s mood. “Dean, what happened?”

 

“Nothin’ man, alright? Just learn me some shit or whatever so we can both get back to our lives.” _Sorry my dad fuckin’_ **_made_ ** _you help me._

 

“You don’t have to tell me what happened, but you’re not going to learn anything while you’re this agitated.” He stood and Dean pointedly fixed his eyes on the floor. He knew he wasn’t being fair, his dad practically admitted he forced Cass to help. The poor guy didn’t wanna be here anymore than Dean did, but it was still bullshit that he agreed at all and made it sound like he actually wanted to help. Cass left the room for a long enough stretch of time that Dean started to wonder if he’d actually just dipped out, but right as Dean was about to get up and go back to his common room, Cass returned with two steaming mugs of hot chocolate.

 

“Here.” He sat down at his desk across from Dean and slid one of the mugs over to him. “There’s a bit of firewhiskey in there too, not enough that the taste is greatly affected, but enough that it should help calm your nerves.”

 

“I ain’t nervous.”

 

“No, but you are extremely on edge. Like I said, you won’t learn anything like that. Take a few sips, a couple of deep breaths, and then we’ll see where we’re at.”

 

 _This is fucking stupid. I should just go._ He took a sip, hissing slightly at the heat that burnt his tongue. It was a welcome distraction, so he took another one. Cass was matching his movements but not really looking at him. After about a minute, he pulled a piece of parchment from the top of a stack and started reading over it, making little marks every couple of inches.

 

Dean took a second to look around Cass’s office. It was neat and orderly, not a single quill out of place. _This guy’s a fuckin’ neat freak, he’d never want a damn mess like me. No wonder my dad had to force him into this. No wonder Benny had no interest in keepin’ things going until he actually left. It’s a fuckin’ miracle Sammy even still talks to me._

 

“Breathe, Dean.” Cass sucked in a breath, and Dean followed on instinct. In, out. It was a deep, ragged thing, exaggerated even more by how controlled and easy Cass’s was. They took another, and another, until Dean’s could pass for something not akin to a panic attack.

 

“What just happened, Dean? Where did your mind go?”

 

Dean struggled to make eye contact, and immediately wished he hadn’t. Cass’s eyes were wide and laced with the type of concern that can’t be faked. Can’t be exaggerated. Which meant Cass was now fully fucking aware of how much of a mental disaster Dean really was. _Oh buddy, this is just the tip of that iceberg._

“I’m fine.”

 

“Dean, you’re n--”

 

“I said I was _fine.”_ The words came out with more bark than he actually felt, but for once he was grateful for it. Cass nodded and set down his quill.

 

“Drink.” Dean drank.

 

“Breathe.”

 

Dean breathed. He found it easier to follow Cass’s breaths, so he studied the way his chest rose and fell under that tightly stretched dress shirt. They sat in silence until Dean’s breathing finally evened out.

 

“Talk to me.”

 

“I’m sorry my dad forced you into this. I can go, I’ll tell him you’re helpin’ me anyway, and I’ll just double down on my own, alright? Don’t feel obligated to do this shit.”

 

Emotions flashed across Castiel’s face faster than Dean could decipher them. “Dean, no one is forcing me to do anything. The comment I made about your dad kicking my ass was a joke, he didn’t threaten me. I didn’t feel obligated.”

 

 _Liar, dad told me so._ “But he said you didn’t seem like you wanted to do it, but you agreed anyway.”

 

It took Cass a minute to answer. “Dean… my reluctance wasn’t because I didn’t want to help you. It was because I was scared.”

 

“What?” _No, that can’t be right. What the hell does this dude have to be scared of?_

 

“It was going to be hard enough to wait until June as it was, Dean. Agreeing to be alone with you multiple times a week…” he trailed off and shook his head. “I wasn’t sure I’d be able to do it. As an educator, your education is - and must _remain -_ my highest priority. Your father put me in one hell of a spot when he asked me to tutor you. My issue was never that I didn’t want to help… on the contrary, perhaps my issue is that I want to help you too much. I just… _want_ too much.”

 

“You gotta be shittin’ me.”

 

Cass quirked an eyebrow. “I assure you, I’m not “shitting” you.” The guy used air quotes and everything, and Dean laughed despite the hurricane of bullshit in his chest.  

 

“So you were scared that if we were alone in the same room, you’d end up wantin’ to fuck me, huh?”

 

Cass’s face flushed and Dean laughed again. It wasn’t mocking, it was relieved. Well, relief and a little bit of embarrassment of his own.

 

“In so many words… yes.”

 

Dean jerked his chin up and smirked. “Well, we’re alone now, Professor. Any sudden… _urges?”_

 

The eye roll Cass threw in his direction could have won a fucking Oscar. “We should start with Transfiguration.”

 

“Yeah? You gonna show me how to Transfigure your pants onto the floor?”

 

“That would be a Charm, not Transfiguration, Dean. Perhaps you really _do_ need the extra help.” Cass smiled, which just spurred Dean on.

 

“Oh, so you’re tellin’ me I gotta _Charm_ your ass outta those pants?”

 

Cass looked exasperated, and Dean laughed from somewhere deep in his gut. “Relax, Cass. I know we said we’d wait. You aren’t gettin’ your hands on _my_ ass for another five and a half months.”

 

“Is that so?” Cass stood slowly, and the look on his face told Dean he was likely very, _very_ wrong about that statement. It sent all the right chills down his spine.

 

“You gonna come tell me I’m wrong?” _Please, please come tell me I’m wrong. Kiss me, fuck me - do_ **_something._ **

 

Cass didn’t come around to Dean’s side of the desk. He braced his palms on the wood in front of him and leaned forward. “Open your Transfiguration book, Dean. We’ve got actual work to do.”

 

That sentence had no right to sound sexual. Most of the things Castiel Novak said had no right to sound sexual, but the guy had the voice of a fuckin’ phone sex operator. Dean shifted his weight in his seat and eyed his bag. “Actual work, huh? That doesn’t sound very fun.”

 

Cass sighed and sat back down, and Dean knew any shot he had at actually touching Cass tonight was gone. “Yeah, yeah. Open my book, I got it.”

 

He pointedly ignored the half-chub he was rocking and opened his damn book.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein Cass does what Cass does best.

** _Castiel:_ **

>  

_ Yes, I was correct. Dean Winchester is going to be the death of me.  _

 

Winter was finally giving way to Spring, and each Charms lesson and private tutoring session with Dean was bringing Castiel closer to jumping out of his own skin. It was maddening, having him so close and knowing they both wanted something more but not being able to do anything about it. 

 

True to their agreement, Castiel hadn’t so much as shaken Dean’s hand in months. It was easier that way, like an unspoken understanding that even one, simple touch would unravel the entire delicate construct. 

 

Dean certainly wasn’t making things any easier. He’d sit in the front row in his classroom with his legs splayed wide, winking at Cass when he finally managed to catch his attention. He’d show up to Castiel’s office on the nights he would tutor him in muggle clothing, not bothering to hide the bulge in his too-tight jeans. Not to mention the never-ending litany of of highly inappropriate comments, said in a flirty, challenging tone in both settings. 

 

It was the beginning of April, which meant he only had two and a half more months to go before Dean was his. He had absolutely no idea how he was supposed to survive it. 

 

“Maybe I don’t really need this job.” He tilted his head back against the top of the chair he was sitting in and closed his eyes. He and Rowena were alone in the staff room, as they were most Friday afternoons. 

 

“Oh, bollocks. You’re not going to throw away your entire career for one student, despite the fact that you could bounce a Sickle off his ass.” 

 

“I’d like to bounce  _ something  _ off his ass, although I can say for certain that it is not a Sickle, or any other form of currency.” 

 

She giggled. “You’re horrible.” 

 

“Yes,” he sighed. “I’m aware.” 

 

“Honestly, I’m rather impressed with you, Castiel. You haven’t been with anyone in what, over two years now? That sort of celibacy takes control that I simply do not possess.” 

 

“I wasn’t intentionally celibate, Rowena. Everyone just  _ sucks.” _

She gave him a teasing look. “Isn’t the problem that they’re  _ not  _ doing any sort of sucking?” 

 

“You know what I mean.” 

 

“Yes, but even still. It just further proves my point about you being an impressive specimen. Being denied for that long and managing to resist Dean? You must be some sort of a robot.” She slung one leg over the other, and her ruby red high heel glinted in the low light of the room. 

 

“It’s becoming more difficult by the day.” 

 

“Who would even know? You’re alone more often than not, how would anyone find out if you gave yourself just a  _ wee  _ taste?” 

 

He’d considered that more times than he cared to admit. “ _ I _ would know. Stop trying to be a bad influence.” 

 

She smirked and let out a small, mischievous laugh. “Who, me? I would  _ never.” _

 

“You would, and you are. Don’t you have some first years to go torture?”

 

She stood and sighed heavily. “Yes, yes, I suppose I do. Just know I wouldn’t think any less of you should you choose to get the ball rolling a little early, so to speak. And I highly doubt you’ll hear any objections from the Winchester boy.” She turned and left, leaving Cass alone with those very tempting and inappropriate thoughts. 

 

\---------------------

 

The following Thursday, Castiel headed down to the Great Hall for dinner prior to his tutoring session with Dean. He found they were easier to get through when he had a full stomach, for reasons he didn’t want to think too much about. He entered the Hall and glanced briefly at a group of Gryffindor students that were hovering near the end of the table and speaking in hushed tones. 

  
“.... yeah, Professor Winchester just hauled off and decked him, I’ve never seen him so angry.” 

 

Cass paused, making a show of stopping a few feet away to dig something out of his bag. 

 

“The guy’s a loose cannon. What do you think he meant, ‘after what happened in Lebanon?’” 

 

“Dunno, but it sure pissed him off. Did you hear the sound it made when his fist connected with Dean’s face? I’ve never heard anything like it, I think his jaw broke.” 

 

Something inside of Cass’s stomach twisted painfully, and worry spiked through his bones. He lost all sense of decorum and approached the group. “Dean? Dean Winchester? Where is he?” 

 

One of the girls in the group eyed Castiel like he was some sort of a creep. He didn’t care what any of them thought, from what he’d gathered, John had physically attacked Dean in the middle of class. “Tell me where he is. Please.” 

 

She shrugged. “I don’t know, probably the Hospital Wing? His face got pretty messed up.” 

 

Dinner forgotten entirely, Cass hastily snatched his bag from the table and raced out of the Great Hall and headed - not for the Hospital Wing - but to his own office. He had a feeling Dean wouldn’t be there, but he also knew enough to know that there was no way Dean would go to the Hospital Wing after something like that. Part of him hoped he’d come to him for help or comfort, but a quick glance in his dark office showed him that Dean was definitely not there. 

 

He couldn’t get into the Gryffindor common room, so he had to hope Dean was hiding out somewhere Cass could find him. He ditched his bag but pocketed his wand and grabbed some chocolate from his desk drawer and raced out to the grounds. 

 

_ If I were Dean and trying to hide from literally everyone, where would I go?  _

 

His eyes darted around in the fading sunlight and landed on the Quidditch Pitch.  _ There. I’d go there.  _

 

By the time he made it there, he was panting and he had a painful stitch in his side, but it didn’t take long to realize he’d made the right call. Dean was in the air, and after a few moments, he caught up with and smacked a Bludger. It whizzed right past Castiel’s head, but he didn’t duck. He sat down on the grass near the stands and watched as over and over again, Dean took unnamed frustrations out on that Bludger. 

 

He wasn’t sure how long he sat there, but eventually the sun set fully and Dean was forced to land. He hit the ground a few feet from Cass and dismounted. “What the hell are you doin’ here? Shouldn’t you be up at the school?” 

 

“Aren’t you a Seeker?”

 

Dean definitely seemed to notice the deflection, but didn’t comment on it. “Needed to hit something. Can’t hit the Snitch.” 

 

“Ahh.” He studied Dean in the dim light and noticed that his jaw was indeed swollen. “May I?” He stood and pulled his wand out. 

 

Dean turned his face away from Cass. “You don’t gotta. I coulda gone to the Hospital Wing.” 

 

“But you didn’t, and you need to be healed before it gets worse. Please?” 

 

Dean closed his eyes and turned towards Cass. “Make it quick.” 

 

There was already a brilliantly purple bruise spreading across his cheek. Cass’s heart broke at the sight, especially knowing the cause of it. He nonverbally performed a healing spell, and Dean sucked in a breath as the bone mended and the skin repaired itself. 

 

“This isn’t the first time, is it.” Cass pocketed his wand and took a step closer to Dean. 

 

“Nah. Been awhile though, I got pretty good at knowing where the line between gettin’ yelled at and gettin’ hit was. Guess I crossed it today.” He rubbed at the skin where his dad had hit him. “Didn’t think he’d actually do it in public like that.” 

 

Dean’s words sunk in and Cass couldn’t help himself. He pulled Dean close, resting their foreheads together and reaching down to take both of his hands. “Do you want to talk about it?” 

 

Dean shook his head slightly. “How’d you find out, anyway? My dad braggin’ about it in the staff room?” 

 

“No, Dean. He’d have ended up with far worse than a broken jaw if he had been.” Cass reached up and brushed his thumb over Dean’s cheek. “Some of your classmates were concerned. I overheard them at dinner and started looking for you immediately.” 

 

Dean took a shuddering breath. “Yeah? Almost sounds like you care about me, Teach.” 

 

“I do. More than you know.” 

 

He pulled back slightly, and green eyes laced with disbelief were flicking between his. “Don’t… don’t do that. Don’t lie to me.” 

 

Cass frowned, and a rush of sadness raced through him. “Dean, I’m not lying. Why else would I come out here looking for you? More than that, why else would I have stayed for hours just to watch you physically attack an enchanted cannonball? I l- I’m falling in love with you, Dean. I understand if you don’t feel the same, but I--” 

 

The rest of his feeble attempt to cover up his admission was cut off by Dean hugging him tightly. His chest heaved, and not for the first time, Cass’s heart broke for him. “I’m here, Dean. I’ve got you, okay? You’re safe. I’m not going to let anyone hurt you ever again. You’re mine.” He let out a deep breath and kissed the side of Dean’s head as Dean fell apart in Cass’s arms. 

 

_ If this is falling, then I’m going to hit the ground and splatter in 5… 4… 3… 2…  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See you Monday for the finale!


	9. Chapter 9

**_Dean:_ **

__  
  
  


The rest of the year was a torturous, stupid nightmare of a thing. His dad got sacked for decking him, which meant he had to get used to a new professor two months before the biggest exams of his life, Cass had still refused to touch him despite the little admission of feelings they had, and they lost the fucking Quidditch Cup to goddamn  _ Slytherin.  _

Life was bullshit. School was bullshit. And the exams… you guessed it, were bullshit. But he passed every single one of them with marks high enough to actually become an Auror, and he was now sitting down for breakfast for his last day ever at Hogwarts. 

His last day without Cass. The one good thing about their Quidditch Pitch conversation was that it opened up a much more serious discussion about what would happen after the school year ended. It was decided that Cass was going to get a place of his own, and Dean and Sam would be moving in the second the train arrived back at King’s Cross. Neither of them would ever have to deal with John Winchester again. 

“Hey! If it isn’t the asshole that caught the Snitch too early.” 

“Shut the fuck up, Finn. It wouldn’t have been too early if you’d actually managed to score some fucking goals.” 

Finn flipped him off, but Cato chimed in. “He’s got a point, Claflin. Besides, Slytherin’s Seeker was riding his ass. If Dean wouldn’t have caught the Snitch, he would have.” 

“Does it really friggen matter now? It’s over, they won the damn Cup, and I’m about to be outta this damn school for good.” He bit into a slice of bacon and scanned the Professor’s table for Cass. 

“You’re not gonna miss it at all?” 

“Hell no.” He found Cass and smiled widely at him, not bothering to swallow his food first. 

“No lessons this morning and we’re going home tonight. I guess that means we’re officially done, huh?” Cato asked. 

“Y’know what? I think you’re right.” He dropped the rest of his bacon on his plate and stood up. “Hey Novak!” Several people turned to look at him as he yelled, but he didn’t care. Cass was the only one in the whole damn room that mattered. “I ain’t your student anymore!” 

Cass tilted his head, but a slow smile worked its way across his face and split his cheeks. He stood, ignoring whatever it was Professor MacLeod was saying to him and bounded across the room to where Dean was standing. 

“You’re right, Dean. You’re  _ not  _ my student anymore. What do you suggest we do about that?” 

Dean grabbed his face and kissed him - in front of all of his friends, his brother, the other professors and pretty much the entire student body. Cass’s arms wrapped around him and Dean opened for him, letting Cass’s tongue past his teeth and sliding his hand up to lace in Cass’s hair. 

It was absolutely everything Dean had wanted it to be and more. It was a kiss that heated up his bones and shocked him awake. Curled his toes and punched the breath right from his lungs. Left him begging, shaking,  _ desperate  _ for more. 

Some of the students near them cat-called or yelled for them to knock it off. Dean simply flipped them off with the hand not tugging on Cass’s hair to tilt his head back and deepen the kiss. 

He’d waited an entire goddamn year for this, he wasn’t going to wait another minute.

He pulled back, fisting his hands in Cass’s robe and sucking in air like he’d been drowning. “Fuck the train. Take me home, Cass. Now.”

The Great Hall remained in view for a long, agonizing moment; and then they were gone. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That’s it! Hope you guys enjoyed, the overall response to this has been a little disheartening but I’m grateful to all of you that stuck with it. 🖤

**Author's Note:**

> This will be updated twice a week, likely on Mondays and Wednesday’s but be sure to subscribe if you like it! :)


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